The Warrior
by Zephyr-Breeze
Summary: Thrust into a world unfamiliar, Dawson Hendry has to fight his way through enemies, love, and his best friend. Accompanied by his hearty band of rag-tag fighters and a narcissistic yet depressed sentient potato Spud, Dawson may not be the hero this world deserves, but he's the hero this world needs.


**The Warrior**

 **Dear our wonderful readers,**

 **We, the authors, have decided to give you a warning.**

 **Beyond the point of the next line is the story.**

 **It may contain some themes that may be unacceptable for audiences younger than 13.**

 **Even then, some themes may make some of you uncomfortable and you may stop reading at any point.**

 **As long as you have bought the book (which if you haven't, the government is watching you) all is fine if you stop reading.**

 **Some of the themes that may be not up to snuff, as some may say, are as following:**

 **Mild sexual themes**

 **Violence & gore**

 **Graphic language and imaging**

 **Thou hath been warned. You also feel a presence watching you.**

 _ **Prologue**_

It was just like every other morning for Dawson. He rolled out of bed, quite literally, and shambled into the kitchen, making his morning cup of coffee. His roommate, Jonas, had left a week and a half ago to hit the bar and hadn't been back since. He wouldn't pick up or return any of his calls. As he did every morning, he called anyway. And as had happened every morning, he went straight to voicemail.

"Hey Jonas, it's me again. This it the seventeenth time I've called you. I'll leave the water on the stove as I always do. Please give me a call back man."

He hung up, not getting his hopes up that this would be the day. He opened the front door to the apartment, expecting his newspaper but instead was met with a book with a brown cover, and no name on it. Though reluctant, he picked it up and walked inside. Though instead of opening it, he left it on his nightstand and went to work, the book never really crossing his mind during the day. He got back home that evening after going out to dinner with his co-worker, Drew. Dawson plopped down on his bed, face-first into his pillow. He looked to is side and saw the book. He decided not to bother opening it and simply went to bed, seeing as he worked 12 hours a day, eight o'clock AM to 8 o'clock PM. Waking up just as he normally did, he opened his eyes to see the book on his nightstand and, curiosity getting the better of him, he opened the book.

His vision began to swirl, the inside of the cover merely said, "Welcome". He flipped through pages, beginning to see things swirling around his vision. All of the pages were empty. It began looking like he was getting smaller, or the book was getting bigger, he couldn't tell. Everything was swirling and spinning now, but he couldn't look away. Words, sentences, paragraphs, they all started to just appear and swirl with his vision, when suddenly everything went black.

Chapter 1

Dawson awoke with a start, unsure of what had happened, nor where he was. He was under a rough, uncomfortable blanket, made of some sort of fabric or cloth, or maybe the skin of an animal, he wasn't sure. Low vibrations and rhythmic clacks and high-pitched yelling. Suddenly, he felt the wood he was laying on jump, like it bounced off of something. It then occurred to him. That low rumble were wheels on a bumpy road. That rhythmic clacking was was the sound of horses, stepping on that road. Dawson was unsettled by this, unable to comprehend what was occurring, and he started to panic. He went to throw the blanket off himself, only to find his hands bound behind his back. He wriggled and squirmed about, trying to get his hands free and get the itchy, uncomfortably blanket off himself. It was then that someone- no, something, yelled, "It seems the prisoner is finally awake!" the thing yelled in excitement. Many others cheered and laughed, almost maniacally. Dawson could only imagine what they were planning to do with him.

"What are you planning to do with me!? Let me go!" He yelled, not eager to find out. The ropes tied tightly around his wrists still uncomfortable, with all his struggling making it worse. He eventually gave up, accepting the fact that wherever the hell he was, he likely wouldn't make it out alive. Lying in the same position for what seemed like hours did hell on his back, and wasn't good for his mood either. Eventually, the cart carrying him stopped. The sound of gravel crunching under many feet grew closer before one of the things jumped into the cart and threw the blanket off of him. He was met with the last thing he expected to see.

There were dozens of short, greenish skinned men around him, with abnormally long faces covered in red welts and blemishes that looked ready to pop at any moment. The one in the cart kicked him in his side so his upper half was sticking out of the back of the cart, and that was when he saw just what he was dealing with. Hundreds of the little demons everywhere, with large tents and bonfires as big as he. He was unable to tell which were male and which were female, or if there even were any females in the group. Then he noticed cages. Big, iron cages with locks the size of Dawson's head. And in some were other people taken prisoner and in others were large beasts. But those people, mostly women, were wearing peasant clothes, like they were from medieval times, and now that he thought about it, all of the little demons were wearing leathers and skins, sloppily sewn together and hardly covering any of their bodies. It was then that he remembered the book. It had to be the book. But how could a book have put him in this situation? Across from those cages was the biggest of the tents, being almost the size of the single floor houses on his street back home. And on either side of the entrance to that tent were these massive, buff things, twice the size of him wearing iron and leather armor, with much darker and smoother skin than the little demons. One of the things, he had just noticed, was stomping toward him, obviously the demons' prefered method of prisoner transport. It arrived and picked him up and, with no regard for his gag reflex or personal well-being, flung him over it's shoulder. It stomped back to the cages, and as it got closer, Dawson noticed that there were a lot of women in the cages. In fact, there were only women. The thing opened one of the cages and dropped him, but just before it closed it, one of the women, a girl with dark brown hair flowing about her waist, wearing tattered clothes, ran out the door of it and sprinted for her life away from the camp. The thing slammed the cage door shut and locked it before turning and sprinting at an ungodly speed after the woman.

It picked her up with one hand, grabbing her around the waist. She released a shrill scream, a cry for help. The creature turned to the cage and walked back, tightening its grip on the girl, as she let out a cry of pain, it was likely that the monster had just broken a few of her bones. The horror and fear in her eyes were strong, as she stared right into Dawson's, pleading for him to help. He was helpless behind the bars. It was then that it turned to one of the iron clad giants and nodded. It stepped into a tent and brought out a large oak log, shaved to a fine point on one end. It stuck it into the ground and three of the little demons brought rope. They stood on one another's shoulders just to reach up as the giant held the woman against the pole. They bound her arms and legs behind the log. The three goblins then walked around and, once again getting on each-other's shoulders, ripped off the woman's clothes, leaving her naked on the wood pole, one of of her legs starting to go purple. All of her curves and edges were revealed to everyone and everything in the camp. One of the little demons walked into the biggest tent and walked out a moment later. Following him was a slightly taller of the little demons, wearing more regal looking clothes than any of the other things in the camp. It held in its hand a leather whip. The thing whipped the sand a few times before shouting.

"I hate to do this, my pretty, but those who attempt escape must be punished." The thing whipped her across the chest and her lower section multiple times, her shrill shrieks and cries of pain. After hours of watching her agony, they didn't even give her any clothes and just threw her into the cage with the others. She was in searing pain. She sat naked in the cell, shivering in pain, crying silent tears of fear. Dawson couldn't stand to look at her, mostly not to be rude but also because she was in excruciating pain. He took off his tight t-shirt.

"Here, you need it right now more than I do." He gently put the shirt over her head and stepped away. She looked up at him with eyes full of a feeling that couldn't be explained by words. She wordlessly stared at him and cried a little more now, keeping quiet. The shirt soaked up the blood from her chest quickly, but overall helped with the bleeding. The behemoth guarding their cage didn't seem to hear him, so it occurred to Dawson that the things might be hard of hearing. "Try not to get it too dirty though. That's my lucky shirt." He said in a joking tone, to try to lighten the mood. It was then that he saw the flaps of the large tent fling open, with the regal-looking demon stepping out, striding carefully to the cage he was in. Once he arrived, he spoke in a low, inquisitive tone.

"So, you're the one they picked up this morning, eh? You're… an odd one." He turned to the brute and shouted, "Why is there a man in the cage with these women?! We don't need any funny business!" He turned back to Dawson with a devilish grin. The big monster opened the cage and picked Dawson up and looked at his boss, the regal-looking demon. He simply stated, "Put 'im with the wolves. They haven't eaten in awhile." The brute stomped over and opened the top of the cage, instead of the front door, and dropped him in. He slammed it shut and stomped back to his post. The regal-looking one said, "I'll be sure to wear your bones myself." before walking away. The other women looked over at him from a few cages down. He saw a tear roll down the brown haired girl's face as she mouthed thank you, before turning away, unable to watch the horror that was about to ensue. Him falling and the cage roof slamming shut woke the wolves in the cage. But Dawson wasn't sure they were wolves. They seemed twice the size of real wolves. They stood up, all four of them, and circled him, snarling. It was then he started hearing different voices accompanying the snarls. A new meal ; Time to eat ; It's been awhile ; This is good. He halted, more confused than scared. The voices stopped, as, what he assumed, the snarls shown as communication were replaced by just that, snarls, as they got ready to pounce on their prey. He said softly to himself what they had said, in the order he heard it, and looked at them. The wolves seemed shocked, but this seemingly made them angrier. They snarled again, and he heard the voices with them. He mocks us! ; He has guessed luckily ; We will not be made fools of! ; He seems to understand us?

Dawson repeated what they said back to them once again, and this time they stopped in their tracks. One of them, with dark circles of fur around its eyes, turned to face him, and Dawson assumed it was their leader. How can you understand us? Dawson simply shook his head in disbelief and stuttered out, "I-I don't know. This has never happened to me before."

All the 'wolves' exchanged glances to each other while Dawson's heart pumped blood rapidly through his veins. See, this is why I suggested creating a code, in case something like THIS ever happened. Said one of the wolves, the one with browner fur. None of us knew that one gifted with this power would ever come along. Snarled another, the one standing closest to Dawson, with glowing blue eyes that seemed to pierce directly into his fears. All four wolves then snapped their heads in one direction, away from Dawson, as if they were expecting something to happen. Another wolf he hadn't seen before, a larger, white furred one with some patches of shorter fur, with some of it's fur painted crimson with dried blood. It stood and walked up to Dawson, getting very close to his face. Almost uncomfortably, at that. It stared him dead in the face with big green eyes. Do you sport a name? It said, with a more feminine voice than the others. Why are you here?

"My name is Dawson. Dawson Hendry. I don't know how I got here, much less why I'm here. I was hoping you would know." He said, concern and fear present in his tone.

You need not be afraid of us, young one. Any who knows our language is one of us. I am the Alpha of this pack. She gestured at the one with dark circles of fur around its eyes and a dark grey coat. He is my mate, and the Omega of the pack. These goblins have held us captive for a long time. We have not been able to escape because of the ogres that work for their leader, Gnorv. He has kept us captive for too long. You may be our escape. The other wolves seemed to get excited at the mention of escape. Dawson couldn't help but feel bad.

"Look, I don't know the first thing about breaking out of a cage, much less a camp full of 'Goblins' or whatever you're calling these ugly midgets." He looked down at his hands and crossed legs. He was trying to think of what to do. "I just don't know what I could do."

You have things we as wolves don't. A human mind, hands, speech, etcetera etcetera. Though, in my opinion, the most former is not much of an advance upon ours. The other wolves chuckled, though it sounded like garbled growls to Dawson's ears. He went to stand and stretch but lost his balance and hit his head on the iron bottom of the cage.

Dawson awoke at near daybreak, dried blood on the side of his head. He tenderly felt his head but pulled his hand back in pain. The wolves all huddled into one side of the cage, and were fast asleep. It then occurred to him what Gnorv had said to him the night prior. "I'll make sure to wear your bones myself." How would it make this "Gnorv" character feel if he hadn't been skinned clean. The goblins were beginning to stir so Dawson quickly woke the wolves and explained his plan.

"I need one of you guys to bite my arm, just so there's a little fresh blood so it's believable that I'm probably dead." He said, regretting his words but sure of his plan's success.

You can't possibly expect me to put my pack in that sort of danger. They have lives to live. Alpha said, very concerned for her pack. These wolves- my friends, they're the only family I have.

"I know this is very risky, but I know that this'll work!" He said, not even one-hundred percent sure of his own words, but if he was going to pull this off he needed the help of these wolves. "Just one of you bite my arm and I'll handle the rest. Please."

Alpha sat long and hard on the decision, before finally agreeing. Alright, fine. But this is your death wish. She stood and stepped forward, latching her powerful jaw around Dawson's forearm, biting down with enough force to break skin and draw blood, but not to break a bone and do too much damage to him. He winced, regretting his decision, and fell on his back purposefully. Moments later, the regal one stepped from his tent and set his eyes on the cage, excited to see the damage done. His excitement was short-lived, however, as the intact body of Dawson was not what Gnorv had wished to see.

"Ogres! Remove this corpse from my camp! I don't need him stinking up the place." Gnorv said with evidence of disdain in his voice. The success of Dawson's plan depended on what would happen next.

To his left, Dawson could hear a loud thump and then some rumbling accompanied by a slight rattling of chains. With one of his eyes slightly open, he could see out of his peripheral vision a very large ogre of about thirteen feet in height walking closer to the cage. One of its ankles was shackled to a broken chain, with the chain dragging in the dirt, causing dust to rise into the morning air. Dawson could feel sweat forming on his back. The skin of the ogre was a light blue-green and its leg muscles seemed to bulge with every bounding step. Dawson could not see its face but he guessed that its eyes would not look kind at all.

When the ogre reached the cage that possessed the wolves and Dawson, Dawson bit his tongue to keep himself from screaming. He was struggling to stay still and he was afraid that his sweat was making a puddle on the hard, rusted iron floor of the cage. With the morning sun still hiding in the trees, the monstrosity that was the ogre yanked open the cage with a force that Dawson thought would only be possible by a creature of this size. It picked him up and inspected him. But what happened next wasn't according to plan. The ogre opened its gaping maw and held dawson over his mouth, the stench of it's breath was absolutely putrid. Dawson still played dead until the last minute and and brought his elbow the creatures face, hitting its eyes. This was his last chance. The creature dropped him and he ducked between it's legs and ran the other way. Its painfully loud screams echoed through the camp. Dawson, as he ran, thought his ears were going to burst, the pain searing, spreading slowly into his brain with a pounding headache.

"Somebody grab that runaway!" Gnorv yelled loudly, getting the attention of everything in the camp. Gnorv's eyes were filled with obvious rage, having been fooled by Dawson's acting. Dawson ran past tents as fast as he could, looking into them to try to find something, anything that could be useful. He found a large wooden crate in one tent that was shoddily put together, and looked easy to open. He ran in and dug his fingers into a crevice and pulled with all his might. The side of the crate broke of with relative ease, but hundreds of potatoes just poured out. The other ogres were too preoccupied with their injured friend to pay attention to Gnorv or Dawson, but the rest of the goblins, as short as they are and weak as they looked, were rushing him. Dawson grabbed a sack and filled it, with the potatoes, to the point of bursting, before running out into the hoard of goblins, swinging wildly. The goblins must have been surprisingly light, because each one he hit seemed to fly into the air and fall with loud thuds, unable to get up from the shock of the fall. But they just kept on pouring in by the dozens. There must have been hundreds of them. It was then that it occurred to him….

He jumped rather suddenly onto the goblins' heads and ran across them to get to the cage that held the wolves captive. He was much faster than the little demons, so he rushed to the cage to open it, and remembered that it was locked. He looked at the wolves and nodded, and they all rose from laying down, ready to run out and help. He sprinted to the ogre and gently took the key ring off of its belt and ran back to the cage. As he stuck various keys into the lock, he heard an immense scream of rage come from one of the ogres. Dawson turned to see one with one red eye and one normal one looking back at him angrily. It took one giant stomp toward him before starting to run. Dawson continued to try keys. He had just found the right one, stuck it in and turned it before a giant hand wrapped around his waist and flung him into the air. He couldn't see much, because of how fast he was spinning and how blurred his vision was. He eventually stopped going up and began to descend, hearing stomping still. He landed on some of the goblins, which broke his fall but also broke their bones. He stood up very shakily, still dazed. Just then a huge hand grabbed his face and picked him up, before throwing him back at the cages. His back landed on the lock and the key stabbed into his back. He fell to the ground and looked up, the key still in the lock but covered in blood. The ogre ran at him again, and Dawson stared at him as he shakily ripped the lock off the cage door and opened it, releasing the five dire wolves upon the army of goblins and ogres. He smiled as it reached him and rose a giant fist to punch Dawson to smithereens into the iron bars of the cage. But then, one of the wolves, Omega, jumped at the ogre, wrapping its mighty jaws around the giant's throat, biting down fiercely. The ogre screamed and altered its attention to the wolf now latched to its jugular, knowing it would soon gnaw its way through the skin and kill him. He brought a mighty hand and wrapped it around the immense wolf's body. But instead of pulling Omega off of him, the ogre merely squeezed Omega. The wolf yelped, the pain too much to bear, before several cracking and squishing sounds reverberated in Dawson's ears as Omega's body fell limp and blood poured out of his mouth and nose. Dawson stared in horror as his comrade in battle fell at the hand of his aggressor. Dawson picked the lock up off the ground next to him, took out the key, locked it and lopped his finger through it, and yelled.

"For Omega!" as he swung the massive steel lock into the ogres private spot and watched it crumble to the ground in pain. "Not... gronknads," the giant said as the wolves then proceeded to rush it, biting it from all angles and making it bleed before it stood and stumbled, then falling again and never getting up. Dawson turned his attention back to Omega, whose lifeless corpse still lay limp on the ground. Dawson closed the poor wolf's still bloody eyes, in hopes to lay his body to rest. He stood then, and bringing the keyring to the other cages, unlocked them, releasing the many women and children that were held captive. One of them, the girl from yesterday, hugged him wordlessly before running to one of the many carts, all of them eager to leave. She jumped into the back of it and waved to him. But then her face went sour and filled with worry, she did this spinning motion with her hand, but he couldn't interpret it. Just then, a small foot kicked the back of his knee and the unexpected attack caused Dawson to fall, startled by a new aggressor. He rolled over as a Gnorv shoved his foot into his chest.

"You little hob-knocker have been a thorn in my side for too long!" Pausing, pure rage filling his eyes, his originally pale, sand yellow skin now turning a bright and vibrant crimson. "This ends now!" Gnorv then, seemingly, spontaneously combusted. Though, it wasn't all at once. The fire seemed to spread, slowly, eventually covering his whole arm, but at first, it was just his hand. "For the glory of lord Spark!" At that moment. Dawson saw the flaming fist come straight towards his face. Had he not moved, he was sure his brain would be fried, if not that, at least his face. Dawson rolled out of the way and brought a foot up to kick Gnorv, his boot connecting and letting out a satisfying thud as his steel toe bashed the little demon's chest. Gnorv flew back a couple of feet, then slid on the ground for a few more. Dawson rose, as did the little, red, burning gnome and Gnorv ran at him. Dawson looked around for some sort of weapon, anything he could use, and he then remembered that those ogres carried swords almost as big as he. Dawson ran to the giant that nearly killed him before. "Trying to hide, are you!? You can't escape from me!" Gnorv shouted, chasing after Dawson. He then pulled the sword and it's sheath off of the giant's belt, immediately put it over his head and tied the strap perfectly, as if he'd done it before, even though he hadn't. Dawson then drew the massive sword and stood in stance, ready to face his adversary. Gnorv kept running, unhindered by the sight of Dawson's new weapon. The goblin got within range and he threw a punch, Dawson dodging out of the way and going for his own swing, this one grazing the demon's side. Gnorv let out a cry that was a mix of agony and rage.

The goblin turned to face but as he did, he felt cold steel pierce his chest. Dawson smirked as he held the sword by the handle and guided the blade carefully with his other into the goblin's chest. He then rose the sword up, following the momentum, until it was pointing straight into the air with the goblin slowly sliding down it, blood dripping down the blade slowly. Dawson looked around at the goblins, wolves, remaining ogres and the caravan of carts filled with women. He screamed a shout of triumph over the crowd before him. But to his surprise, everyone before him, including the goblins, shouted and cheered in joyous praise. The wolves howled, women cheered, and goblins prayed. The ogres happily bounded out of the camp with strides no human could hope to match. Alpha walked up to Dawson and stood beside him.

These people will remember you always, human. You have defeated their corrupt leader and bring before them a new reign, one hopefully filled with a better tomorrow. From what I've heard, the men and women of a nearby town have been raided many a time and had their women, children, food and other supplies stolen by Gnorv.

The goblins began forming groups of ten or fifteen and walked out of camp, each group taking one of the many sacks of potatoes, carrots and other crop available. "Where will they go, Alpha?"

That is their choice, young one. They will likely move far away from here and grow strong with their packs. These women will likely go back to their homes and reunite with their families. I will need a new Omega, and will test those remaining in my pack to become the new Omega. Even so, my wolves and I are forever in your debt, as you alone saved us today. She bowed down, at least to the best of her ability as a wolf, and the other three in her pack came behind her and bowed as well.

"I don't understand why you're bowing to me." Dawson said, obviously confused and a little worried still. "I'm just a regular city kid." He wasn't used to this kind of society, where gratitude and joy are feelings that matter, where swordsmanship and magic reign over militaristic combat, and where towns and villages help each-other and depend on one another to survive and thrive.

You have saved us today, human. I understand that you are not of this world, from the way you react to what you've seen. Alpha said, turning to face the monsters leaving the camp while the women still sat in carts, visibly nervous being around the goblins that had tormented them for gods only know how long. You have also saved these people, though unconventionally. But I do have a question for you. She turned her head and glared at Dawson, her eyes betraying her curiosity.

"Wha-", He stumbled over his words. "What is it?"

If you are new to this land, this world, as you claim to be, then how do you know how to use a sword? Her curiosity was satiated slightly by his fumbling of words, she instead looked angry, sure of his lies now.

"I honestly don't know. It's the first time I've ever touched a real weapon. It all sort of happened in the blink of an eye." Dawson said, very sure of his words. Alpha began doubting her own intuition.

Alpha stared him up and down, analyzing his posture and body language. She got many mixed signals, and finally had to ask. Just who are you?

"Who am I?" Dawson asked, really thinking about it.

"Who am I?"


End file.
